


Attachment

by covetsubjugation



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:12:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7867309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covetsubjugation/pseuds/covetsubjugation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Weeks ago, Aaron had come into the room while he was frantically pacing. He had taken one look at him, shook his head and left. But he returned about an hour later, a cup of tea in one hand and an organza bag in the other. He passed Alexander the tea, but kept the bag; Alexander pretend not to notice him slipping it into his coat pocket."</em>
</p><p>It takes Alexander a long time to realise that perhaps his roommate, Aaron Burr, wasn't exactly normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attachment

Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing how long it took for him to notice something was up.

He really should have paid more attention to his strange roommate, it is quite obvious in retrospect that the man was not like other people.

Aaron never leaves the house until he absolutely has to, and when he does, he is always dressed up. Not dressed up in the traditional sense of a suit and tie, but he always seems to have a flow about him. It is as if Aaron takes care to express through his clothing his way of life, how he seems to float through it, free of weariness and doubt, unlike everyone else.

Alexander notices he wears a lot of lightweight clothing, scarves and shawls, silk and chiffon-all of which turn translucent as the sun filters through them. Even during the winter, as Alexander buries himself in thick woollen clothing, bundling himself up against the harsh chill, Aaron’s coat isn’t heavy and stiff, but rather flowy and light.

(He doesn’t know the name of the material, he could ask Hercules but when he sees him, it never seems important enough.)

And when Aaron leaves the house, he always returns with the strangest stuff. Flowers and seeds, semi-precious stones, clear jars, candles and organza bags.

It takes a long time for Alexander to catch on to the weirdness.

At first, Alexander is just glad Aaron is willing to have him as a roommate. Sure, they bicker at times and they can never agree on anything, but somehow they seem to work. Aaron is usually willing to let him vent and scream to his heart’s content, and Alexander… Well, he isn’t sure exactly what he brings to the table but it works, so he doesn’t question it.

Aaron never seems flustered, again it has to do with his whole mystical, floaty vibe; But while Alexander runs on caffeine and adrenaline, Aaron is always calm. Always resting with his legs curled beneath him on the sofa, a warm cup of tea in hand, browsing through a book with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

The first incident that really strikes him is how he feels when he is near Aaron. He can storm into the dorm, steam rising from his volcanic head, sparks lashing from his tongue; But half an hour with Aaron, and he leaves considerably calmer, even if all Burr did was hum occasionally and raise his eyebrows in response to Alexander’s words.

A particular moment stands out to him: A couple of weeks ago, when the two of them had been buried up to their heads in books and pens and information, when the clock had long passed twelve and it was well on the way to morning, Aaron had come into the room while he was frantically pacing. He had taken one look at him, shook his head and left. But he returned about an hour later, a cup of tea in one hand – the kind that Aaron drank, the strange exotic ones with intoxicating fumes – and an organza bag in the other. He passed Alexander the tea, but kept the bag; Alexander pretend not to notice him slipping it into his coat pocket.

But whatever was in the tea worked, he felt calmer and clear headed; And during his exam the next day, the feeling of calm remained and he had left the hall beaming. Aaron brushed past him as they stepped out, and it was only then did Alexander remember the organza bag in his pocket.

When he drew it out, it crinkled in his hands, a lovely scratchy sound. There were seeds in it, along with sea salt, lavender and basil, and one other thing he couldn’t name. A strange gift to receive, he supposed, a snack perhaps? But it didn’t dwell on his mind for long, as he slid it back into his pocket and continued on his way.

The next time he grows suspicious is when he spots Aaron wearing jewellery. It isn’t unusual to see the man sporting some form of trinket or another – usually he wears the wedding band his parents had left to him when they passed – but this is the first time he spots such an eye-catching piece. It’s not particularly obnoxious, he supposes, but it is a strange addition to Aaron’s wardrobe. A gold ring with an amethyst set in it, no extra jewels, no intricate details on the band, a rather simple ring all things considered. If he had to get Aaron a ring, he would probably have chosen something similar.

Aaron catches him staring at it. “Yes?” he questions and Alexander startles as if he is guilty of a crime. (He isn’t; Nothing wrong with staring except people might think him rude, but honestly, that is nothing new.)

He gestures at the ring. “That’s new,” he asks curiously and Aaron gives a sly little smile, twisting it around his finger. “It is,” the man confirms before sweeping off to find Theodosia.

Alexander sees Theodosia later, wearing similar jewellery. Instead of a ring though, it is a gemstone necklace; And rather than an amethyst, it is a lapis lazuli. The necklace wasn’t unlike what you might find on Instagram or Etsy, except it is clear even from a distance, Theodosia’s necklace is of a higher quality. So he forgets about it, it’s probably a gift the two of them share. He has lived with Aaron for almost a year now, but he still doesn’t know if he and Theodosia are dating or not.

It isn’t until he meets up with Hercules one day after class and spies the citrine earrings in his ears. His eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline when he seems them. “Interesting earrings,” he finally comments and Hercules peers up at him from his sketchbook, winking before bowing his head back down.

When Alexander next finds himself with a bit of free time, he catches himself googling the three gemstones. He discovers that citrine supposedly inspires creativity, while the amethyst and lapis lazuli have something to do with wisdom. The likelihood is that he stumbled across some absurd new trend, and Alexander lets it be.

He still finds himself discussing it with John when they next see each other. He is propped up between John’s legs, resting against his chest as they talk about it. John plays with his hair the whole time.

“It’s not annoying, per say, just… I don’t know, John, strange?” he says, feeling the vibrations beneath him as John hums in acknowledgement. “And I thought I wouldn’t be fazed by it, you know? Aaron isn’t the most conventional of roommates, I mean, neither am I, but it feels as if all of a sudden, I am discovering all of these strange things about him. And it’s not like I didn’t know all these things already, but it feels like I’m learning about them for the first time.”

John hums once more, a long drawn out sound as he mulls things over. “The jewellery could just be a trend,” he suggests, tugging lightly on Alexander’s hair. He leans into the touch. “The tea, you were probably dehydrated-” he acquiesces to that, John is the med student- “but the organza bag… It does sound somewhat like a charm.”

“A charm?” Alexander questions. John shrugs behind him, causing Alexander to shift from his comfortable spot.

“I mean, I doubt it’s a snack-” Alexander smacks at John’s thigh for laughing – “and all those things do have symbolic meanings attached to them – I’m surprised you haven’t googled it already, actually – but really, it just sounds like a harmless good luck token. I wouldn’t put too much thought into it, Alex.”

It’s his turn to shrug. His friend is probably right, just a small gift from Aaron, made odd by his behaviour. John lies back on his pillow, leaving Alex sprawled on top of him. His mind still feels clear and unhurried; He would normally be quite worried about his lack of stress but he can’t find it in himself to panic.

Then the door flies open and Lafayette strides in, staring intently at his phone. He nearly trips over Alexander’s messenger bag, which was left lying in front of the doorway. “Seriously, Alexander, again?” the man complains good naturedly and Alexander flips him off from his lounge on the bed.

“Honestly, it wouldn’t matter if you just looked up from your phone once in a while,” he shoots back.

Lafayette doesn’t argue, instead looking up from his mobile. “What’s this?” Lafayette asks mischievously, taking in Alex and John’s respective positions. “Am I interrupting something?” He gets two birds, one from the each of them, for his trouble.

The watch on his wrist beeps and Alexander groans as he slides off the bed dramatically. “Gotta go to work,” he complains but he scoops up his bag anyway and heads for the door. He cheekily kisses his two friends, ignoring the exaggerated groans of disgust, waving at them as he steps out.

He manages not to think about Aaron the whole time he is at work, but when he begins his journey home, his hands brush against the ‘good luck charm’ in his coat pockets and he finds himself stopping at the local craft store to buy more of the organza bags Aaron always gets. To his surprise, Aaron is not locked in his room when he returns, but instead curled up on the sofa in a miserable ball, smothering under a mountain of blankets.

“I’m sick,” he explains hoarsely and Alex winces at the creak he calls a voice. Aaron gestures towards his bedroom; He isn’t wearing his ring today. “My medication is in there, can you get it for me?” He looks so pathetic that Alexander nods in agreement and sets off on his task.

Now, he has never actually been into Aaron’s room before, never had a reason to venture inside, so he doesn’t know what he was expecting to see when he enters. But it probably wasn’t this.

There are fairy lights strung around the room, illuminating it in a soft glow. Tiny succulents litter the room as well, some are sat on the window sill, some on Aaron’s desk where his medication is, others on the bookshelf pushed against the wall. The bookshelf is chockful of books; Alexander spots shelves for fiction, non-fiction, even one for poetry and plays. But what catches his eyes is the bottom shelf. The titles of the antique books are shrouded by the shadows cast by the bed, but he can just barely make out some of the titles.

“ _Witchcraft and its History,_ ” reads once. “ _Spells and Charms,_ ” reads another. A book about plants and their properties is displayed on the shelf as well. _What is this_ , he thinks as he grabs the bag of medication. _Some kind of research project of Aaron’s?_

There’s a jar on the desk, half-filled with strange materials, and an open notebook next to it. He shouldn’t peek, Alexander knows, but he can’t resist sneaking a look.

In Aaron’s neat handwriting, he had penned down the names of several plants and their symbolic meaning. “ _Aloe,_ ” Alex reads in growing horror, “ _for affection, healing and protection. Lavender for acknowledgement. Rosemary for love, loyalty and fidelity. Avocado for love, lust and beauty. Basil for love, wealth and protection._ ” A quick flip through the rest of the notebook reveals similar formulas, and Alexander realises the glass jar on the table is filled with the ingredients from the first ‘spell’ he had seen.

A charm, John had guessed just several hours previous, who would have known it was so much more than that? In a rage, Alex swept up the jar and notebook, storming back into the living room. He had not failed to notice the stack of tarot cards the medication was set upon.

“What is this?” he demands. He tosses the notebook onto the floor, causing the weakly coughing man to jump. His heart is racing in anger and his hand can’t quite stop shaking as he holds the offending jar aloft. In his head, he feels as if he should smash it to emphasise his fury, but something holds him back. “What is this?” he demands again. “Some kind of- of- love potion? Honestly, Burr, do you have no fucking morals?”

Aaron is half frozen in his position on the sofa, but slowly he shifts to an upright position, turning to face Alex. “Alex,” he tries. “Alexander-”

“No!” he interrupts. “What the hell is going on?” Between the books on witchcraft and the tarot cards on the desk and the notebook full of potions, he honestly feels quite alarmed. Has he been under a spell all this time? Had Aaron been secretly messing with his mind while they were living together?

Aaron sighs; It comes out more like a wheeze in his sickly state. Both of his hands are up, placating Alex. “Okay,” he starts, voice no more than a hoarse mumble. “This will sound very strange, but I need you to believe me for a moment. I am a witch.”

Well, it wasn’t quite what he was expecting.

“Excuse me?” Alexander asks, face furrowing in disbelief. Aaron sighs again; It’s a day for sighs apparently.

“I’m a witch, okay?” he explains, shoulders slumping forward in something akin to defeat. “Look, remember when I said my great-great-great grandfather was a fire and brimstone preacher?” Alexander nods, it had been one of their first conversations as roommates.

“I wasn’t being completely honest – kinda more like an inside joke – my great-great-great grandfather was versed in witchcraft.”

Alexander blinks, moves to sit down on the sofa. The jar is placed on the floor. Aaron perches on the opposite end on the sofa. “Doesn’t the bible forbid witchcraft?” he clarifies and Aaron nods.

“Hence, the inside joke. Basically, all of my family is versed in witchcraft – the actual kind, not whatever people peddle as magic nowadays - and I was taught witchcraft too, since I was a kid. And despite what it looks like, it’s not a love potion.” He fishes the splayed notebook off the floor, displays the page to Alexander again. “It’s not a love potion,” he pleads, “Just a charm that gives you good luck and channels affection from the giver to the receiver.”

Aaron moves from the sofa to the floor, kneeling in front of Alex, even as it causes him to cough. He tries to meet Alex’s bowed gaze. “I promise I have no interest in making a love potion. I have standards, and morals, as you say.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond – if anything, this is all a bit hard to swallow. He feels almost as if he should be calling for help. He thumbs through Aaron’s notebook again, this time taking the opportunity to read over each charm.

For the most part, the charms are quite innocent, simply wishing for good luck or wealth or the like. They are written in detail, and Alex notes that the same ingredient could be used for different purposes in various charms, depending on the mind-set Aaron holds while making them. He notices though that the more recent charms all have to do with having affection or fondness for the receiver of the charm. The charm before the ‘love potion’ is simply titled ‘Focus’, and Alexander even recognises it as the organza bag he holds in his pockets.

Now, with a bit more of context, the strangeness starts to make sense. How he feels around Aaron, the symbolic jewellery, the tarot cards, how Aaron all seems so put together, it’s as if a puzzle is coming together before his very eyes.

It’s a strange concept, witchcraft, but not a completely unfamiliar one. He had heard of people with powers back in Nevis, although he had never paid much attention to those rumours. Now though, he supposes there may have been some strand of truth in them.

Finally, he raises his head to meet Aaron’s worried gaze. “I believe you,” he says and Aaron sags forward in relief. “Although-” he refers to the later charms in the notebook- “Affection? Fondness?” He watches as Aaron flushes, resting his weight on his legs. His hands are on Alexander’s knees.

“Attachment,” he hastens to explain. “Those charms were meant for people you were fond of: friends, family-”

Alexander nods slowly, the organza bags he had bought are burning a hole in his pocket. He rests his own hands on Aaron’s, hearing the man’s breath catch. He can’t seem to meet Alexander’s gaze. “Or,” he continues, “lovers, crushes. It depends on the… shape of your affection.”

“And what shape would that be, Aaron?” Alexander asks, leaning forward. His face is temptingly close to Aaron’s. Aaron swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat; His answer is almost too quiet to hear.

“A lover’s affection.”

And Alex leans forward more, and suddenly the two of them are kissing. And he knows this is not the product of a love potion, or any sort of a charm, but genuine fondness and affection, borne of time and loyalty and care. The kiss feels right, like the final puzzle piece sliding into place, the whole answer for all the strange things that take place in their tiny dorm.

Aaron struggles back, face drawn in worry. “We shouldn’t do this,” he pants and Alexander’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages weakly and he begins to move back but Aaron grasps his hands again. He is smiling.

“No,” he huffs sweetly. “I’m sick.”

“Oh,” Alex says again and he sways forward again, bringing their foreheads together. Aarons forehead is feverishly warm beneath his, but that’s alright. He thinks of attachment, and of organza bags.

“A lover’s affection,” Alexander breathes into the space between them. “I can work with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know for a tiny story that I was just writing for fun, this shit has a lot of notes.
> 
> I wrote this out in my notebook because I didn't want to lose inspiration, ended up finishing the whole thing there. Now it is on archive.
> 
> Anyway, so this story was inspired by the witch tag on tumblr. Long story short, people practice witchcraft on tumblr and if you wanted to look into that, there's a bunch of sources for it. But here are the ones I used.
> 
> For the Focus charm (I say charm, that's probably not the term people use), I got it from [here](https://witchy-woman.tumblr.com/post/143552496306/hi-sweeties-a-new-jar-for-you-today-trouble). You can check out witchy-woman's whole blog if you're really interested in spell jars.
> 
> As for the 'love potion', that was me realising spell jars are basically a bunch of herbs and positive reinforcement mixed together, so all the ingredients have their own meanings which have already been discussed in the story. Those meanings I got from [here](https://www.richters.com/show.cgi?page=InfoSheets/d9003.html) and [here](http://in5d.com/plant-symbolism-a-guide-to-the-spiritual-meaning-of-plants-4/).
> 
> So obviously here, I branched out from the witchcraft that people practice on tumblr, so this is not exactly like what you might find online. This is purposeful because I didn't want to get too deep into the internet, but if you do do that, be safe and take everything with a pinch of salt, but don't fuck with demons. Or the supernatural. That's just good life advice in general, your life need not be a White Person horror movie.
> 
> But yeah, if you want to come chat, you can find me on [bisexualexhamilton](http://bisexualexhamilton.tumblr.com). You can also find me on my writing tumblr [here](http://covetsubjugation.tumblr.com).
> 
> I thrive off kudos and comments, so feel free to leave those around. See you soon!


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